


In Need Of A Hand

by Dorksidefiker



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 03:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12926004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: There's only so much unappealing aesthetics that Knock Out can be expected to put up with.





	In Need Of A Hand

"Will you stop fluttering about and _sit down_?" Knock Out snapped, drumming his talons on his hip.

Ultra Magnus stiffened, glaring down at the little red medic. The tips of his claw clanked together in warning. "This is unnecessary. I am not due for an exam for another two stellar cycles, I am not unwell, and Ratchet-"

"Is a wonderful, brilliant medic with a gift for making the best out of limited resources. he is also _not here_ , and _this_ is not about routine maintenance." He snatched up Ultra Magnus' claw, holding it like it personally offended him. " _This_ is about _you_ making me look at this cobbled together bit of scrap metal day in, day out! I won't stand for it!" He let the claw drop. "I'm building you a new hand. Now sit down so I can see what I'm working with."

Ultra Magnus remained stubbornly on his feet. "This replacement is functional."

Knock Out made a rude noise. "It lacks manual dexterity, the pressure sensors are all but non-existent, and it's _ugly_." He was already powering on a data pad. "You're not stuck on Earth making do with scraps anymore, big bot. I can rebuild you. I have the technology." He smirked, making Ultra Magnus suspect he'd missed something. "Now stop squirming like a newspark and _let me work_."

The berth creaked ominously with the addition of Ultra Magnus' considerable bulk. Knock Out smirked, humming cheerfully as he detached the hook.

To Ultra Magnus' surprise, Knock Out didn't flirt or tease... much. He _did_ ask what weapons Ultra Magnus wanted included, arguing in favor of a mix of aesthetics and power. Ultra Magnus stood firm; if he _had_ to endure this, then he would have _his_ hand back as it had been.

Or maybe a hammer.

Knock Out was surprisingly against the hammer, bristling at the very mention.

Finally, the medic dismissed Ultra Magnus with orders to come back in a few cycles for the installation.

 

Ultra Magnus was not, by any stretch of imagination, a mech afraid of pain. But there was a difference between the pain that came with battle and the pain of willfully submitting to a Decepticon with a reputation for painful experimentation for treatment.

It _should_ have been easy to avoid returning to Knock Out's medbay. There were things Ultra Magnus _needed_ to be doing; even a temporary government needed _someone_ actually managing things. Primus knew he couldn't leave _Bulkhead_ in charge.

"Am I going to have to sedate you for this?"

Ultra Magnus _didn't_ shake himself, but he did tear his optics away from the row of heavily used, well maintained tools laid out next to the medical berth.

Knock Out raised his optics from the hand he held, peering up at Ultra Magnus. He wasn't smirking, but there was an _aura_ of smirking smugness in the slight swing of his hips as he turned to put the new limb down.

"Are you planning on standing there all day?"

Ultra Magnus cradled his claw, his optics drawn to the new hand. Despite Knock Out's threats, it looked nearly identical to the one he'd lost to the Predaking. Even the shade of blue was right.

The claw creaked as it opened and closed. Rust was a constant problem, no matter how carefully he maintained the claw.

"I trust that you have built it to _my_ specifications."

"Why Ultra Magnus, would _anyone_ dream of doing otherwise?" Knock Out asked innocently. Ultra Magnus ignored him, studying the new hand for... well, anything. Some flaw. Some reason to _leave_.

It was perfect, so far as he could tell. Each joint was articulated beautifully, moving with ease as he tested the fingers.

"You do good work."

Knock Out accepted that as only he due. "Of _course_ I do. Are you going to let me install it, or are we going to stand here admiring my hard work all day?"

Ultra Magnus wanted to say no, or at least insist on waiting for Ratchet.

But there was something about Knock Out's expression. That _challenge_.

_What are you scared of, Big Bot?_

Ultra Magnus sat down, extending the claw to Knock Out.


End file.
